Horror
Time to Visit the Lions
Amanda slid her finger along the jagged edge of the heart pendant she had worn for the last seven years. Her mother Beth had given it to her the last time they visited the zoo.
LUCINDA M GUNNINPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Party's End
I woke up to smoke, and blinding heat. What had happened? I tried to sort through the thoughts in my pounding head to remember last night. I went to a party last night? With the football guys? Yeah, yeah that’s right we won the big game and were looking for some fun for the rest of the evening. I smelled, once again, the soot and smoke in the air and painfully I realized this heat and smoke meant there was a fire nearby. I blinked again, my eyes stabbed by the smoke, sweat pouring out of me like never before. Oh my God! This much smoke meant the house was on fire, I had to get out! I got up and began running trying to find a wall to guide myself by.
Benjamin SimmonsPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Hunt
“Don’t touch me.” I snarl, glaring at the traitor. He looks down his nose at me, a quirked eyebrow the most subtle sign of his contempt. “If you were smart, you’d be doing the same thing.” The loud clang of the collar clicking into place punctuates his words, and he turns to the next person in line. I grit my teeth as I watch. He finishes. Then, he turns to the crowd. His hands wring behind his back, and the air around him is tense as he approaches the people. He can side with them, but that doesn’t mean he’s their equal. “Time for the Lord’s speech!” The man walks on stage, the crimson fabric writhes around his ankles as he takes his place.
The Block
All that rain has dimmed the fires now. On the opposite side of the road, a man wails, his hands holding his face. Sharon can’t help but notice one of his ears slipping down the side of his neck. No one to blame but himself. She looks away, and does up the top button on her cardigan. The arthritis in her knees is flaring up again. Like one of her husband’s old manual camera lenses, she tunes out the locals’ suffering, bringing those sharp flames of personal familiar pain into focus. You’ve prepared for this, Sharon.
Last Diary Entry of Victoria Rehd
Diary Entry: 6/28/2042 My name is Victoria Rehd and this will likely be my last entry. I will begin 21 years ago when this . . . all started. I was 12 at the time, living with my parents in a small apartment in Northside Minneapolis. It was like any ordinary day. My mother stayed home and homeschooled me while my dad worked close by at a military site. Looking back to simpler times, I remember how much my parents did for me and how they sacrificed everything for our family. My mother instilled good habits in me, such as never letting things go to waste and always appreciating the little things. On a late Friday before my birthday, my mom and I were sitting by the window waiting for my dad to come home as we usually do. At 10:21 PM, everyone’s life was changed when an immense flash of crimson light filled the sky from the southern horizon. My mom, in a panic, scrambled for the phone to call my dad because the flash came from the direction of his base. No response. A few moments later, all the lights in the city went out in an instant. The only source of light was that damned dreary maroon the night now always brings.
Mitchell SmisekPublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Purification Locket
Dear Diary… Today was a great day, I cycled through the local market on my way to work with a smile on my face and... …Have you noticed that in the movies, the End of the World is always dramatic…environmental disaster, alien invasion, zombies, time travelling killers, destruction at the hands of God. You can choose your favourite apocalypse but the underlying formula is the same…huge cataclysmic event followed by the collapse of society, billions dead and the world left in ruins.
Ryan McGregorPublished 3 years ago in FictionSilly Girl, Farms Are For Pigs
Run. Run. Run. The only word that goes through my head. Breathing heavy and pumping my arms, my legs hurt and side my aches but I won’t stop, I can’t stop.
They Didn't Want to Leave You But
I’m lucky they just cut out my tongue. I’ve seen much worse done for lesser offenses than mine. You can’t reassure without a tongue anyway. That’s why they did it. When I spoke, people listened. A voice of revolt they called me. Even if it was only a whisper into a child’s ear. Your parents, they didn’t want to leave you but The Order made them. They still love you. They didn’t want to leave you.
K.P. StanislausPublished 3 years ago in FictionAshes to Ashes
Ash tumbled so softly from the sky it could almost be mistaken for snow with the ways it whipped and whispered if not for two facts:
Jeffrey MartinPublished 3 years ago in FictionDear Diary
DAY 1 Things were super heavy yesterday when they started sounding the alarms. I was unaware of the chaos when it began, and it really came through like a tornado. Psychics and the like have been predicting this for a while now. Few people really took it seriously, and the ones that did still made jokes about it. But either way, here we are and the world is forever changed now.
Ari Asha LovePublished 3 years ago in FictionThe Day of Destiny
Slam! The sound rang out throughout the complex, the whining of sirens leaking through her closed bedroom window. Homework, devastating amounts of it, lay blown across her desk. Dark clouds loomed outside her window while people scattered in the streets, floors below the apartment. Why is everyone running? she thought. Her family, a simple family, was gone. Her parents and brother told her they’d be back and that she should stay and finish her homework. She watched them race down the street minutes later, going to buy groceries.
M.B. GeorgePublished 3 years ago in FictionMeltdown at Buffalo Bayou
Abeza Simmons was like any other 20 year old when the virus first showed its ugly head....Any other 20 year old who was sold by his birth mother for her fix. His MOTHER, Ivetta purchased Abe at a roadside motel that she happened to visit by chance. She had dreamed of having children, even before she had came to the realization of who she was; at 15 Ivetta, who was at that time known as Richard, expressed his desire to live as a woman to his mother, she met his request with pure disgust and dropped him at a friends house with 10$ and a backpack of belongings. The only thing that Richard took from his old life was a silver plated, heart shaped locket that had belonged to his mother. It had a small picture of his grandmother enclosed. He was not sure why he took it but it brought him great comfort in that time of abandonment. He was to face some hard years but it was in the struggle that Ivetta was born.
Justus McDonaldPublished 3 years ago in Fiction